live to shred


Spending some quality time with ur terrifying 14ft girlfriend, telling her a funny story about eating people. OC’s Akito (Silver/pink) and Jetta (grey)

Speedpaint for Mermay


Nathalie Boltt’s response to the many comments about Cole and Lili on her latest post.

You guys. Please stop doing this. Everyone who thinks it’s okay to act this way towards REAL PEOPLE who can see everything you post are crossing a major line. Look at your life. Look at your choices.

If you have to scream about “breadcrumbs” or whatever, please PLEASE for the love of god do it in private. Don’t project your fanatical obsession onto This wonderful cast who are just trying to live their lives and maintain whatever shreds of privacy they have left.

The more you do this, the less they’ll feel comfortable sharing with us.

Please. I’m begging you.

Something I’ve been debating for my au for a long time is whether morro should be killed by his own true potential or not. Ghosts have to relive their deaths every year and those that don’t have the will to go through with it disperse and are sent back to the cursed realm. The ghosts were also released at the beginning instead of right before possession, meaning Morro had the will to live through getting the flesh shredded off his body and torn to pieces at least twice before possession rolls around.

anonymous asked:

Can u write a zach imagine Where the reader is zachs Gf and hannahs sister and very well liked by everyone and the people on the tapes dont want her to Find out about them but she does and is mad and especislly at zach

title: forgiveness, can you imagine?

word count: 1692

note: deadass rewrote this 5 million times until i was finally happy with how it turned out. it’s super fuckin long too wtf i love zach too much maybe idk

Hannah’s death had torn you apart, that much was true. Your sister had left no note, no letter, for you or your parents. Instead, she left behind shattered hearts and ruined lives, tearing everyone to shreds. Your parents pushed for a lawsuit, claiming that maybe Hannah had been bullied and it was the school’s fault for not stopping it. Maybe it was the truth; her life had turned sour when rumors flooded the school that involved her and multiple people.

Zach had been keeping secrets, that much was true. You never pushed, never prodded; if he wanted to tell you, he would. But these secrets, these were the ones that were going to tear you apart. It was affecting your relationship and the ties you had with everyone in your circle: Marcus, Justin, Jessica, Sheri, too many more to count. It was concerning you and they wouldn’t let you in on what they knew.

He hadn’t intended for you to find out ever, and even if you did, he didn’t intend for you to find out in the way that you did. You were Hannah’s sister for God’s sake; if you were going to know about the tapes, the tape team wanted it to be because they had shown you. Of course, Clay fucking Jensen (as Justin so lovingly put it) had to go and screw everything up.

They knew that he was the last one who had had the tapes in their possession; they knew he hadn’t passed them on yet. The last thing they had expected him to do was show them to Hannah’s very own sister. It wasn’t ever expected, something they would have taken to the grave with them if need be.

As Zach walked up to the front door of the Baker household that fateful Saturday afternoon, he could see your bedroom through your open curtains and blinds. You were sitting on your bed, a tape player in hand, headphones over your ears, and the most devastated look on your face; Clay was sitting in the chair at your desk, looking equally upset. In that moment, the boy standing outside your house knew.

He told the group, let them know that there was a storm on its way. It could be a silent, deadly one that severs their ties with no words or one that began with yelling and ended in tears. He didn’t know what to expect now. Courtney and Jessica were fearful, they were close to you; Zach was even more scared, he was your boyfriend after all and he really, genuinely cared about you.

Monday came and went without incident. You ignored everyone in the group. When you were walking in their direction, you put your head down, pretending to not notice them. They noticed that as soon as your back was to them, your head would lift and your stride was quick and long.

The end of the school day, in your opinion, was the best part of your day recently. You escaped with your dignity, no confrontation with your closest friends. Your luck, however, had run out when you reached your home, Zach waiting by the front door, his body leaning casually as it always did against the wood barrier; you slammed your car door harder than you meant to.

“What are you doing here, Zachary?” you asked, nudging past him to unlock the house.

He was taken aback, he’d never heard your voice dripping with such venom. It was a new sensation, this absolute dread he felt when you’d said his full name. “Am I not allowed to drop by my girlfriend’s house and see her?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping over the threshold and jiggling your key out of the lock. You wished he’d just leave, catch the drift that you were mad at him. How could he stand there and act as if you hadn’t heard what he’d done to your sister, been one of the reasons that she’d been driven to take such drastic measures?

“I’m not so sure anymore,” you mumbled, setting your backpack by the door and making your way to the kitchen.

The door shut behind you; Zach was following and you didn’t want him to. He was leaning against the counter when you turned from getting a snack out of the fridge.

“What’s wrong?”

Feigning innocence.

“Ask Hannah,” you snapped quietly, not meeting his eyes. “Oh wait, you can’t, can you?”

This was what he was afraid would happen all day at school; he was hoping it would happen there, so everyone could see it. Then everybody in school would see how bad he had fucked up, how bad everyone on those goddamned tapes had fucked up. Here it was, though, happening in the kitchen of the very house Hannah had died in, silent and driven to an extreme that she shouldn’t have been driven to. It was intimate, just the two of them; the air was so silent, he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and seemingly echoing through his whole body.

“[Name], listen-”

Your face burned, your eyes were blurry, your throat was closing rapidly. “No, Zach, you listen. How could you do that to my sister, to me? I don’t understand how you can hold hands with me in the hallways and kiss me when nobody is looking, and not feel bad for what you’ve done! Why would you steal those notes from her? Were you mad that she had turned down your comfort? She had been so wronged by everyone in your stupid fucking group that she couldn’t trust you, she thought it was a dare when you tried helping her. Just… How can you even look at me?”

Then you were crying. Breaking down right in front of Zachary Dempsey. It was embarrassing, but after three days of holding in feelings of betrayal and sadness, you finally had a way to let it out. And he held you, even though you tried hard to push yourself out of his arms, away from the person you hated and loved all at once.

“Hear me out, please.” The desperation in his voice was beyond evident. “I tried to help her. I really, really wanted to. After Marcus assaulted her, I went back to the diner and tried cheering her up, but she didn’t want to have anything to do with me. So I tried again in the cafeteria, but she completely blew me off. I took those notes without knowing what they meant to her and then she left me that note.”

“S-She said you threw that away.”

“I didn’t. She thinks she saw me throw it away and it’s valid. She saw it a different way than what actually happened. But I have it. It’s in my wallet. The thing is, though… I feel so bad, so bad. I’m the only one on those tapes trying to own up and take responsibility for what I did. Justin, Bryce, Courtney… They won’t ever admit that what they did was wrong, what they did hurt her, but I will. I’m telling you right here, right now. I wish I hadn’t done what I did. If I could go back in time, stop myself from being so angry when she humiliated me in front of everyone at school, I would.”

The tears were still streaming, a steady flow of warmth falling from your eyes, wetting your cheeks, and dousing Zach’s shirt under his Letterman jacket; it smelled strongly of some cologne you had gotten him for his birthday and faintly of the caramel mocha he always ordered from Monet’s. You wished it wasn’t so comforting.

“I am genuinely sorry for what I’ve done. To Hannah, to you, to your family. I really do understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, [Name]. Seriously.”

You thought, leaned tiredly against his chest, your cheek pressed just above his heart. It was a hard decision; this was the first boy you’d ever loved, first one you had ever told as such, but what he did was wrong. Like he said, though, he was the only one really owning up to what had happened in his tape so far. Justin, Courtney, Sheri weren’t at your door apologizing for their mistakes.

Zach could practically feel the anxiety growing in his stomach, a frightening grip in his gut that reached threateningly up through his chest and closed his throat. It seemed like ages before you said anything and he let out a breath he had been holding.

“Can you just… Give me a break? I really love you, don’t get me wrong, but I’m really mad at you right now. I just need some time to calm down, clear the air a little bit.”

He pulled his arms tighter around you, almost like he was afraid that if he let you go, you’d disappear just as Hannah had. The girl had been right about one thing; he was lonely, too. Not like she had been, but he was. And it showed.

“Is it bad that I would have been worried if you said you didn’t need a break?” he joked, his voice dripping with tears he didn’t know had welled up.

You laughed a little, clearing the air. “No, I don’t think so.”

It was almost like losing a comfort blanket when you unraveled yourself from his body and he wanted nothing more than to pull you back into him, revel in your warmth and the nearly tangible love that you exuded. He was about to say something when your hands found his cheeks and guided him down to your level so you could press a quick, chaste kiss to his forehead. Even after your lips had left his skin, your hands stayed on his face and he stayed leaning down, his eyes closed and his own hands holding your wrists as if to keep yours in place.

“It’s just a break, okay? Don’t go chasing after any other girls.”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it when you’re the only one I love.”

“I love you, Zach. Don’t forget that.”

“I love you, too. I’d never forget.”

Neil sucked in a deep breath that ripped him open on its way down. “I’d ask you how it feels, but I guess you’ve always known what it’s like to be second, you worthless piece of shit.”

this boy is2g

anonymous asked:

Can u write headcanons for Dazai and Chuuya in a zombie apocalypse au(with an s/o pls ;)) *^*??

This AU kind of got away from me whoops. {i have more ideas but I cut a lot out for the sake of the blog} I live for Zombie AUs. I’m going to write this in an AU where they don’t have their abilities, but everything else is the same.


• His tactical thinking pattern becomes one of his greatest weapons in this situation, and he knows it’s the best way to make sure both of you survive in this new world. As much as Dazai jokes about dying the thought of leaving you to deal with a world full of dead cannibals focused on ripping every living being to shreds makes his heart drop to the floor; he’s determined to use his mind to create the safest space for you. He stockpiles weapons as much as he does food, even if he’s not too great at using them he’s not taking any chances.

• He knows there’s safety in numbs, but he can move a lot faster if it’s just you and him. His close friends become part of the group but he’s always planning ways you and him can escape by yourselves if anything ever goes wrong. He doesn’t share these plans with you because he doesn’t want you to worry; even in this dark part of history he still has a smile on his face whenever you’re near him.

• Populated cities are dangerous, but the height advantage and supplies outweigh trying to travel. Dazai chooses to go on supply runs himself because he can slip out of places easily without being detected, and he knows all the secret routes in the city. He ensures you he’ll be just fine, after all he can outsmart people who still have a functioning brain so how hard can it be to win a battle of wits with someone whose dead? Dazai gives you an earpiece and tells you to keep your side muted unless you really need something from him or you’re in trouble. If he has someone he trusts in the group he brings them along, especially Odasaku, but if it’s just a small run he likes to go on his own.

• Fortifying your home is one of Dazai’s first accomplishments. Instead of trying to furrow underground like a lot of people he chooses the very top of a high building—and abandoned penthouse. The hardest part was clearing out all the undead without making too much noise, but traps are Dazai’s wheelhouse and after a day the entire building was completely emptied. The multiple floors and rooms make it easier to set traps for lurking undead that happen to wander in or people trying to raid you for your supplies. Having a view of the city makes it easier to keep track of anything happening as well, and besides if the world is ending you might as well live comfortably right?

• For the first time in his life Dazai is adamant about using protecting during sex. But, that doesn’t mean he won’t whine about it. He dramatically wishes the world didn’t end so he could still grab a quickie in the corner of the bar bathroom rather than be stuck getting frisky surrounded by traps and guns and steel barred doors. But, he doesn’t let this stop your sex life, he’s actually more adamant about it than before. He won’t admit it out loud but he knows there’s a higher chance that one of you could randomly be killed and he wants to touch you as much as he can just in case. What was one super kinky sex delves down to passionate, steamy sex with him moaning how he loves you when he finishes.

• He’s not surprised when you start having trouble sleeping. Waking at every small noise, having nightmares. Dazai holds you close to his chest, murmuring that he’ll keep you safe for the rest of your lives together. If you’re still struggling to close your eyes he starts singing to you, just random songs or verses of old songs mashed together because he can’t remember all the words.

• Dazai makes it a point to have some sort of outdoor space set up, like the rooftop, so you both don’t go stir crazy sitting inside all day. He even makes a little garden after stealing a truck load of supplies from a garden store and creates a trap for rainwater to filter later. Depending on how ransacked the city is Dazai assumes you’ll be stuck in the building for a couple of weeks. It’s safest to let the city succumb to itself before venturing out to see what’s left.


• Chuuya defends his house like it’s his child. He doesn’t see the point in trying to go anywhere else. He knows the layout, all of his weapons and things are here and he’s not going to risk your life just to travel elsewhere at this point. Security had already been set up before the world went to shit, but a few new additions were added like automated turrets and the camera range was extended. He expects people to come and raid his house at some point, and he’s more than ready to deal with it.

• Anyone close to him is brought to his house, and he figures the more supplies and people the better. No matter your own skills with a gun or fighting Chuuya outright refuses to let you leave the house until he has an idea of how chaotic everything is. If you fight him on it enough he begrudgingly lets you go on very minimal runs, like checking on neighbors and taking their supplies if they left the city or didn’t make it through the carnage.

• Chuuya takes a team with him when he goes exploring, and he chooses to do it in the dead of night over daylight. Ambushing is easier in the shadows; and the undead constantly make noise when they can’t see which helps Chuuya tremendously. If Chuuya ever passes by an old place you two used to frequent he tries to find a memento with the name on it, or something you’d recognize. As much as it pains him to know you both won’t have the life you’d planned together Chuuya doesn’t want you to forget, and he doesn’t want to either.

• If you don’t know how to use a gun or aren’t very good at aiming Chuuya makes you practice daily with rubber bullets so ammo isn’t wasted. You need to be a good shot to survive, and Chuuya takes every training sessions seriously. Chuuya goes a bit overboard with the physical training as well because the thought of you being ripped to shreds right in front of his eyes because he didn’t make sure you had enough stamina to run keeps him awake at night.  It takes Kouyou to relax him when you’ve reached your limit and he’s still trying to push you. Afterwards he apologizes and offers to massage your legs before dinner.

• Chuuya prefers everyone sleeping in the same room for safety reasons, but if he’s aching to touch you he tugs you into the spare bedroom in the middle of the night and has his way with you. He takes his time if it’s been awhile, but keeps his gun within arm’s reach just in case. Chuuya spends a lot more time admiring your body and soaking in the way you look with your cheeks flushed and legs wrapped around his waist. He savors the way you taste, and how your skin feels against his lips. Everything is ingrained.

• Precision is Chuuya’s specialty and he learns very quickly how to use this to his advantage. Himself and Tachihara spend their days on the roof when it’s their turn for look-out, or if they hear a large amount of enemies coming towards the house. One head shot after the other they pile up the undead. Chuuya hates looking at the pile and can’t stomach to move them into a mass grave a few miles away to burn them so Kaji and Akutagawa generally take care of it.

• The minute you’re good enough at aiming and handling a sniper rifle Chuuya brings you on the roof with him when there’s a few stragglers wandering in the street. Despite the very tense situation Chuuya still manages to make your skin light on fire when he circles his arm around your waist and leans his chin on your shoulder, whispering lightly when to fire. Chuuya lets you take the lead after you’ve gotten a few successful shots in, but letting you go out on runs is still something Chuuya doesn’t like. 

like one of your french girls

Clexa Week Day 6 - Friends to Lovers

Summary: Ever the queen of procrastination, Clarke has left the assignment for her life drawing class to the last minute and found herself without a model. Enter Lexa, because apparently posing naked for each other is something that best friends do…

Read on AO3.


Glancing up from the screen of her laptop and tugging one of the earbuds out from her ear, Lexa finds Clarke leaning on her doorframe, looking into the bedroom where Lexa lounges lazily on her bed.


“You know that I love you?”

Lexa shuts the lid of her laptop and sets it aside on the nightstand beside her bed to give Clarke her full attention. Knowing Clarke as well as she does, she tilts her head to the side, raises a single eyebrow questioningly, and asks, “What do you want?”

Clarke’s face drops and she rolls her eyes at how well Lexa knows her.

“Okay, so hear me out,” she begins, “but you know my life drawing class?”

Shuddering at the memory of the one time that Lexa came home from her own classes to find a large painting of an incredibly naked man leaning against the couch in their shared apartment, Lexa replies with a grimace.

“How can I forget?”

“Well,” Clarke explains, “we were supposed to work on a project outside of class but you know what I’m like – procrastination is my middle name.”

“You haven’t done it,” Lexa concludes.

“And I need to do it by Monday,” Clarke says with a nod. She bites at her lower lip nervously, then continues, “The thing is, I haven’t been able to find a model at such short notice. And well … you’re right here and you said that you were just going to be watching Netflix all afternoon so…?”

Clarke trails off, the tone of her voice rising at the end as she looks at Lexa with a question on her face.

Lexa is embarrassingly slow to pick up on what Clarke is asking her. In fact, it is only after a good five seconds of racking her brains to see if she knows anybody who might be willing to pose for Clarke, five seconds in which Clarke’s face gradually moves through pink and to a deeply flushed red, that she realises that Clarke is asking if that person can be her.

“You want me to…? Oh, right. Um, wow.”

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